


Happy Hour

by breeisonfire



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Attempted Drugging, Bar Fight, Gen, SO, i have no memory of writing this but here ya go, it's august, the document says i created it back in december
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 10:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15749799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeisonfire/pseuds/breeisonfire
Summary: In which John's great backup and Gordon's got an eagle eye.





	Happy Hour

**Author's Note:**

> TW: attempted drugging and minor violence.

The whiskey here sucked.

John's very picky about his drinks. He doesn't drink often - he's on call almost all of the time and he has no desire to find out what it's like to be drunk in zero-g - so he's a snob when it comes to drinks, and he's fully prepared to admit it. When he does drink, he does it socially.

But being social implies that someone else is talking to him and while he is here with Gordon, Gordon isn't paying attention to him.

Actually, John has no idea what Gordon's paying attention to. He's nursing a fruity drink, because Gordon swears by fruity drinks, but he hasn't been drinking much. They've only been there for about twenty minutes now, and Gordon's been watching the bar for the past ten.

John turns his head to see what Gordon's looking at, but as he does so, Gordon stands, rather abruptly and walks towards the bar.

His first instinct is that Gordon's gone to flirt, but he knows he's wrong immediately. John's very good at reading his brothers. He's had to be, had to know exactly what they're thinking to work in sync with them in the field.

So he knows that the way Gordon's holding himself has nothing to do with flirting, and he knows as Gordon slides between a guy and a girl, that Gordon had seen something and intended to do something about it. So John gets up, because he trusts Gordon's instincts.

"Hey," Gordon says, smiling pleasantly, and the guy looks at him. Gordon reaches behind him and slides the girl's drink towards him. "Wanna tell me what you just put in her drink?"

The guy doesn't manage to quite hide his surprise. It's there, on his face, for a split second before he smooths it over, and instantly John knows that he hadn't expected anyone to see it, or maybe no one to call him out on it.

"I didn't put anything in her drink," the guy sneers.

Gordon's smile doesn't waver. "Yes, you did. I could see it from across the room."

"What, you were watching me?" the guy says. "What, are you into me?"

"Oh, honey, you're not my type," Gordon says and John bites his tongue, working to keep a straight face. He turns his head, giving the bartender a look, and the guy nods, walking down the bar to a phone.

"I didn't put anything in her drink," the guy says again, and Gordon, still smiling, takes the drink in his hand and holds it out to him.

"Cool, then you should drink it," he says.

The guy stares at Gordon like he's grown a second head. John waits, because he's picked up on the tension that's growing in the room and if he has, then Gordon has, too. There's two other guys coming to stand behind the man they're talking to.

"It's not nice to steal a lady's drink," the guy says.

"It's not nice to drug it, either," Gordon says, and his expression has finally changed into one more serious. "In fact, it's illegal."

"You gonna rat?" the man says, pulling himself up to his full height. He's taller than John, but Gordon doesn't blink.

"Absolutely," Gordon says.

"Huh," the man says, and moves.

Gordon makes no effort to get out of the way and takes the fist directly to the face. He drops the glass and it falls to the ground, breaking, and Gordon falls with it. The man goes to move forward and John steps in front of Gordon, whose already struggling to get up. John doesn't flinch as the man glares at him and throws out his own fist.

Scott had taught him once, a long time ago, how to defend himself. It's been a while since he'd punched someone, but this definitely wasn't the first time.

He manages to send the guy staggering backwards, which almost makes up for the sudden agony in his fist, when one of the other guys steps forward. John ducks one of them, but the other one gets him in the eye and John is knocked backwards, slipping on the liquid now on the floor.

Gordon's back up, and the guy that John had hit is now fighting another big guy. Gordon takes the one that had hit John, hitting him in the jaw, and gets another hit in the stomach. John goes to get up and feels another sharp pain in his hand - glass. There was glass on the ground, and now it's in his hand.

Gordon's suddenly down on the ground next to him again, and he's holding his shoulder, which is bleeding.

The guy comes to him and gets one good kick in to Gordon's ribs, causing Gordon to yell, before John grabs at his leg and pulls, ignoring the pain in his hand. The guy tumbles to the ground, and John pushes him as hard as he can.

The guy tries to scramble back up, but suddenly a big guy in a black tee-shirt is there, and he yanks the guy up.

"He has a knife," Gordon gasps, and John feels his stomach fill with cool panic.

The guard pulls the man back and John turns to Gordon, pulling his hand away from his shoulder.

"How bad is it?" he asks.

"Not too deep," Gordon says, but his eyes are squeezed close and John can tell he's in pain. He's got his other arm across his chest.

A guy at the bar hands down a towel and John pushes it against Gordon's shoulder, ignoring the pained intake of breath, because he has to to keep calm.

"You okay, Jay?" Gordon asks, squinting at him.

"I'm fine," John says shortly. "I'm not the one that got stabbed."

"You're bleeding, too," Gordon points out, gesturing to his other hand.

John blinks and looks at it. It is bleeding - he'd forgotten about the glass. The panic he's trying to hold back had distracted him, but now he can feel the pain. At least two of his fingers are broken, he knows.

Now that he's thinking about it, his cheek is also throbbing.

Scott was going to be pissed.

* * *

It's three hours later, curled up in a chair in Gordon's hospital room, that John's finally allowed to relax. Gordon's got one broken rib and another cracked one, one hell of a black eye, and a four-inch stab wound in his shoulder, stitched back together. He also has a few cuts on his lower legs from the glass when he fell on the floor.

John's lucky in that all he had was a piece of glass in his hand, two broken fingers, and a bruised cheek. His cut in his hand only needed five stitches to Gordon's twenty three. He's also been discharged already.

Gordon has not. Gordon had passed out in the ambulance on the way there. Gordon had needed twenty three stitches in his arm. Gordon's high off his ass on painkillers. Gordon's also lucky as hell to be alive, because by some miracle, the knife hadn't hit anything major. Gordon, of course, took credit for this, before falling asleep mid-sentence.

The hospital had called Scott before John had a chance to. John had had to call after the fact, after Scott had already called him three times and left at least two voicemails that John hasn't had the courage to listen to yet. He'd just called Scott outright.

Scott had been in New York City, in a meeting for Tracy Industries. Scott had been over halfway there when John had finally been able to call him and reassure him that he and Gordon were alive and relatively okay. Scott had clearly disagreed with him, but he'd let it drop for now, probably reserving judgement for when he arrived and actually saw them.

Gordon's still asleep. John had tried to get him discharged, but the doctor had firmly told him to sit down, since he was in no shape to actually take Gordon anywhere. The police had gotten their statements. The bar full of people who had seen what had happened had supported them, so John's not worried about that. He’s pretty sure they’ll get off fine. The other guy  _ did _ hit first, though he’s pretty sure Gordon didn’t dodge on purpose.

It takes Scott longer than John had thought it would to get there, but then Scott's walking through the door, slowly and quiet. He sees Gordon first, obviously, looking him up and down, and then turns to John, doing the same to him. Only then does he relax, just the tiniest bit.

He sighs. "Do you two always have to get into trouble when it's just you?"

John pulls a face before wincing, hard. Ow. "It's that guy's fault. He shouldn't have put anything in her drink."

Scott tilts his head. "Is that what happened?"

John nods. "A guy put something in a girl's drink and Gordon caught him. That guy hit first."

Scott looks pained, but he also looks amused. "I believe that."

"I punched a guy," John says, holding up his hands. "I think I need more practice."

Scott definitely looks amused now. "Did they give you drugs?"

John nods. "And Gordon. Gordon got stabbed."

"You told me that on the phone," Scott says. John can't quite remember. "You didn't say you'd got stitches, too."

John looks at his hand. "Oh. A glass got broke and I cut my hand. It's only five stitches. Gordon needed twenty-three."

Scott shakes his head. "Anything else?"

"He has a broken rib," John says. "And a cracked one. And he went into shock."

Scott nods. "His nurse told me that. We should be able to take him in a bit. How long has he been asleep?"

John frowns, which also hurts, holy shit. "Two hours, I think?"

Scott nods again. John wants to say something else, but he's interrupted by a yawn, and forgets what he was going to say. Scott just grins at him.

"Take a nap," he says. "I can watch over Gordon."

John knows better than to try making a face again, but he's pretty sure Scott gets the memo, even as he leans his head back against the back of the chair and closes his eyes. He's sure once he wakes up he's going to hurt more, and Gordon's going to be an absolutely nightmare while he heals. Still, that's a problem for him to deal with the future.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, come visit my [tumblr](http://drdone.tumblr.com) if you would like.


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